


progression in twenty

by choir



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-15
Updated: 2012-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-16 08:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choir/pseuds/choir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takao makes a list, after he graduates high school, of the things he does and does not know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	progression in twenty

Takao makes a list, after he graduates high school, of the things he does and does not know.

Something he doesn’t know: why he could only ever barely pass Chemistry, how on earth people can grow so tall (genetics—they baffle him), and perhaps what the rest of his life will be like.

Something Takao does know: he hates Midorima.

“Selfish,” Takao tells Ootsubo, when he asks. “Weird, aggravating, rude—”

Takao makes another list, when Ootsubo says that he should stop telling lies. It begins simple, and then progresses, past the point of his ability to write. He tries, despite of this.

It starts:

 

 

1\. The first day of freshman year, Takao watches Midorima from the door; an endless machine of precision, of focus.

Hours, hours.

Midorima’s movements are filled with a different kind of confidence, one that could only possibly be obtained from years of acknowledgement that he is the best, when it came to this. Midorima stops only when he starts to wince, with every shot; when his arms hang limp at his sides and he silently curses, under his breath.

That day, Takao begins to envy the boy with the motivation to create a miracle out of himself. He laughs silently at this thought; _miracle_ , the perfect name for someone destined to become greater than them all. The weight of the word weaves its way around Takao’s neck, and he feels it poisoning his blood.

Takao goes on a run, that night. Eight miles, ten—he imagines that he is flying, past Midorima. That he, of all people, could possibly possess the traits of a genius.

He knows that this is not true, but Takao allows himself to believe it, anyways.

 

 

 

2\. Midorima sits in front of him, in English.

For the first few months, they never talk, and Takao notes that they are only acquaintances on court. Past the sport, they cannot connect. Ootsubo says that this is normal, for players to never truly know each other, and Takao realizes that he doesn’t mind, after a while. _Just try to get along with him_ , Ootsubo says. Takao resists the urge to argue, in response.

It’s Midorima’s assurance, his selfishness, that Takao cannot stand; but he covers up his hatred with a smile and a bundle of forced laughter.

Takao finds that he doesn’t care whether or not Midorima can tell.

 

 

 

3\. In middle school, Takao remembers the _Generation of Miracles_ as a single unit; barrelling their way forward, letting anyone who opposed them to lie in the wake of their domination. In truth, Takao knows that this could never be the case--he wonders if they all hated each other, in the end.

In the first month of freshman year, as _Generation of Miracles_ is whispered among the ranks of the players, Takao finds that he thinks of them as separate. There is only Midorima, now, shooting so far above their heads that it hurt to breathe.

 

 

 

4\. The first time Midorima tells Takao to pass to him, he lets out a bark of laughter.

“ _Me?_ ” Takao asks, incredulously. “The one who bitches about you all the time?”

Midorima nods.

“How selfish can you get, dictating the way that I’ll play--”

“ _Takao_.” Midorima holds out his arms expectantly, as the clock ticks downward.

Takao goes out of his way to pass to him, from then on. When he asks himself why, even he cannot answer.

He lies, and says that it is only to ensure their win.

 

 

 

5\. Midorima Shintarou becomes Shin-chan, after a while.

Midorima doesn’t appreciate the nickname, much; Takao laughs and says that it’s fitting.

 

 

 

6\. When Midorima says thank you, for the first time, Takao nearly has an aneurysm.

Midorima scowls, Takao smiles. This is who they have become; a ragtag team of opposing personalities that clash, often. Takao still considers Midorima as a selfish brat, at this point, but cannot stop the steady progression of him into the system of his cells, embedding themselves into his DNA. He notices, but is helpless to stop it.

 

 

 

7\. In defeat, for the first time, Takao learns of the biggest difference between them.

He sees Midorima silently leave the gym, weariness and fatigue holding themselves around his ankles. In the back of his mind, Takao knows that this will take him off of his pedestal, that it will make him more manageable.

As Takao watches from the door, rain soaking through his clothes, and he is reminded of the first day of practice, how he does not think of Midorima as a machine, anymore. When there is transformation, there must always be rebirth; under the rain, then, Midorima is reborn into a person who he must meet again.

For the first time in his life, he welcomes the change.

 

 

 

8\. “Well, Seirin sure surprised me,” says Takao, as they ride home.

Midorima does not respond, right away.

“Shin-chan?”

“Shut up, Takao,” Midorima mumbles.

Takao lets Midorima have his way, for once.

 

 

 

9\. “This isn’t fun,” complains Takao, after his third loss.

Midorima shifts his queen down a square. “Check,” he says, the tips of his mouth twitching.

“I will not be the victim of your sadistic tendencies,” growls Takao, refusing to move his king.

“It’s not my fault you’re incapable of anything logic-based,” says Midorima, flippantly.

Takao looks up to Midorima attempting to muffle a grin, pushing his glasses up to the ridge of his nose.

“That was a direct challenge, wasn’t it.” Takao glares at the mass of green hair in front of him.

“Maybe.”

Takao moves his king, then.

 

 

 

10\. Takao won’t lie that there are certain days in which Midorima expends his patience; in his defense, he argues that spending time with an egotistical maniac tends to do that to a person.

So Takao allows himself to have fun, once in a while.

“Ootsubo,” Midorima hisses, blindly stumbling around the gym, “ _where is Takao_.”

Takao bursts out laughing, at the opposite end of the court, as Midorima blunders over to him and misses grabbing a chunk of his hair.

“You really are blind without these, huh,” says Takao, dangling a pair of glasses off the end of his finger.

“ _Fuck you_ ,” says Midorima, teeth ground together.

It ends up being a fun practice.

 

 

 

11\. Midorima confuses him, at times. The walks home, in the dark, and the few small utterings of truth that he reveals to Takao--

Sometimes Takao thinks that it may all have been worth it, in the end.

 

 

 

12\. After a game, Midorima insists that Takao treat him to ramen.

“I don’t have any money,” says Takao, frowning.

Midorima pulls out his wallet. “Fine,” he says, “but next time, you pay.”

Takao can’t stop smiling, when he gets home.

 

 

 

13\. In the dark of a silent street, Takao kisses him, in the beginning of their second year. It is a move wrapped in impulse, one that he isn’t sure he could stop if he tried.

Midorima’s ears bloom red, when they part, and Takao notices the way his breath hitches and exhales in shuddery gasps.

Takao leans in, again, and he feels Midorima’s hands clench at his jacket; _closer_ , they whisper.

 

 

 

14\. Things change, between them, after that day. In the beginning, Takao ignores it, until Midorima pins him against the wall of the locker room, mouth opening and wanting.

 

 

 

15\. “I didn’t expect that,” says Takao, surprise flickering across his expression.

Midorima just frowns. “Me neither.”

 

 

 

16\. The regulars begin to notice that Midorima smiles, now, when Takao speaks.

They ask him, and Takao just shrugs. “Who knows what goes on in his head,” he says.

Midorima stalks into the conversation and tells them to mind their own business; Takao laughs, and lets Midorima wrap him around his finger, again.

 

 

 

17\. “I’m glad to have met you, I think,” says Takao, in the middle of their third year.

If Midorima’s cheeks darken under Takao’s hovering figure, Takao doesn’t comment on it.

“Don’t say such embarrassing things,” snaps Midorima.

“I think we’ve past the point where I can be sappy, yes?” says Takao, letting his fingers glide down Midorima’s stomach.

“Never--”

They fall quiet, when Takao let’s his mouth fall against the bare skin of Midorima’s hips.

 

 

 

18\. Midorima plays piano for Takao, on certain Saturdays.

Takao listens, and listens; watches Midorima’s fingers, long and talented, produce a language that he could never create. He would feel jealousy, really, if he didn’t know that it is a form of expression, for Midorima, when he cannot find the words to speak for himself.

So he lets Midorima speak to him, in this way.

 

 

 

19\. The future is held up with anxiety, in Takao’s mind.

In Midorima’s, it is held with confidence; Takao scoffs at this knowledge, as it is typical, unchanging from the moment they met.

“I want to be a doctor,” says Midorima.

“Didn’t know that you held such emotional attachment to strangers,” teases Takao.

Midorima is silent, for a moment, before he mutters, “you taught me to.”

It is Takao’s turn to bloom red, this time.

 

 

 

20\. Graduation is filled with tears, and promises that are never meant to be kept. For Takao, it is the promise that he will always be able to stay with Midorima; for Midorima, it is the promise that he will always wait for Takao, in the end.

It is bittersweet, the end of the beginning, but Takao doesn’t regret it, in a way.

Midorima holds his hand in public, for the first time, as they leave the school together. For now, however, the promises uttered in the dark are held firm. For now, Takao thinks that this is enough.

Takao whispers _I love you_ against Midorima’s fingers, twining them together, momentarily connected.

 

 

 

Something that Takao definitely, positively knows: he does not hate Midorima Shintarou.


End file.
